I Woke Up in a Car
by Kitty Kat
Summary: There’s nothing special about us, but you do realize that some fourteen year old kids in like Bum Fook Egypt or Ohio or some unknown, crazy place like that is listening to our cd right now.” OneShot. Craig's band gets successful, but at what price?


**I Woke Up In A Car**

(Katy does great fluff for Jamie's sake. Nah, Jame didn't ask for it. She never asks for anything. She's just so damn deserving. She's the ultimate.)

"Fucking Manning, wake the fuck up. It's," Spinner leans over the cup holder and turns on the car. It becomes alive with a few turns of the engine. "It's nine. We are due at, y'know, ten. Or something."

"Ten thirty," I say putting the pillow over my ear.

"Well the flamer in the backseat and I are starving."

"Yea douche," JT Yorke says as he assaults my temples with his fingers. "We are in desperate need of food."

"And I am the lead singer. Who is in desperate need of sleep."

I throw my head against the horn, and it succeeds in waking every fiber of my being. "Manning! What the hell was that!" Sully says pushing JT off of him.

I turn around to see JT give him a sarcastic glare. "If there's something going on between the two of you, whoa, JT when you gave me those lyrics, were they about Sully?"

"Shut up," he says defensively. "You know who they're about."

Spinner and I share a look. "Manny," we both say in unison.

He mumbles something else. Sully starts to laugh maniacally. "Dudes, we've all banged her."

JT coughs suddenly and insecurely. "Not all of us..."

The three of us lean back in our chairs laughing. "He didn't even bang her. And she stole his heart."

Spinner gets over his giggle-fest first. "You're lucky. She's a cold hearted bitch. In the worst way."

Sully starts cracking his knuckles, a habit that drives JT to the brink of insanity. "You guys are all just pussies. Well, I guess it pays the rent. Except that for Manning, rent means car payments."

"Shut up," I say defensively.

"And stop that endless cracking. God, fuck it," JT says. We all roll our eyes.

"I'm sorry that I forgot to book a hotel. I'm just, I don't know, my head's been somewhere else."

The car settles for a few moments. No one knows what to say when I finally admit that I'm having problems. It's normal for JT, he's the quintessential whiny emo kid. If Spinner did it, they would think he was just pissed off about being expelled in grade 11 and doing nothing since. Sully never would, hands down. But for me, it's this rare gem, but instead of admiring it, the guys avoid it like the fucking plague.

"Food, Manning, drive." Spinner's always been such a poet with words, if I do say so myself. No wonder none of the "written by" credits on our last cd had his name after them.

"We'll get it at the station. We have to catch a train to Poughkeepsie."

"I still swear on my mother's grave that is not a city," Sully says.

"Your mom isn't dead, asshole," I respond.

"We'll see about the city thing. It's just that asshole manager you hired trying to kill us for insurance money or something."

"I so hate you."

"And you are so an eleven year old chick."

"Whatever. We're, like, fucking successful. There's nothing special about us, but you do realize that some fourteen year old kids in like BFE or Ohio or some unknown, crazy place like that is listening to our cd right now." Is it worth it, Manning?

"I know Ohio exists. It's Poughkeepsie that I have my doubts about."

"Finally," Spinner says as I pull the rental into the train station. "Food."

"Get the fuck out, I need to return the car."

"See ya in Poughkeepsie," Sully says before all three slam their doors in unison. I should be mad, or pissed off at Sully, but there's this simple nagging thought. _Is any of this worth losing her over?_

It seems the more questions I ask, the less answers I've ever come up with. And all I can think is how those sound like lyrics you write on your chucks, not actual thoughts. Have I become so brainwashed by this set?

"_I woke up in New York City,  
From my sleep behind the wheel.  
Caught a train to Poughkeepsie,  
And time stood still."_

"What's that?" JT asks walking into my cabin and nodding at the note I'm holding.

"A letter from home," I say simply. "I kind of wanted two hours by myself if you don't mind."

He kneels on the seats across from me. If he had heard my last comment, he showed no sign of it. "How are Joey and Caitlin?"

I sigh deeply. "I don't know."

"Is there something wrong? The letter is from them, right?"

I shake my head. "No," I whisper. I turn my head to face the wall.

"Who, then?"

"Not Manny."

"Craig, I'm only trying to help. I know you can't talk to Sully or Spinner. I know what it's like. You love this, don't you? The recognition, the music, the money. But there's that huge stipulation. Is it worth it if there's no one to go home to? Or, why go home when you have to be across the globe at a moment's notice."

"It has to be worth it."

"I know you still love her. Does she still love you?"

"I'm paid to go out there and have kids relate to me about losing love, but it's a lot easier to admit that I don't know what love is. Or, I did, and now I don't. I don't know."

He opens his mouth a few more times but only air escapes his lips. I wring my hands together in desperation. I want to tell him everything. He's so lost, and I am, and we could, I don't know, revel in each other's lostness. Finally, in a last ditch effort to cure the silence, he stands up.

"Hey," I say so he turns around. Whatever. Throw the poor kid a bone. "She says she does. I believe her."

He nods. "I guess it will just make a better song if she said she didn't."

I let out a small laugh. "You can't be angst ridden with no problems."

"_She wrote me a letter from San Diego,  
To qualify her luck.  
These flights connect through Arizona,  
But I think I'll stay stuck.  
So here I am,  
Here I am."_

Sully falls onto the couch in my dressing room and sprawls himself out while I run a comb through my wet hair. "Sometimes," he starts as he throws a tennis ball into the air and lets it drop back into his hands repeatedly, "I feel like such an ass after we leave town. I share this amazing thing with some girl, and I'll never see her again."

"Really?" I say turning away from the mirror and raising an eyebrow. "You have regrets?"

"Sure," he says catching the ball and sitting up. "I mean, what if she was really good? I'll never get that again. I'll get something different, but maybe not as good. This one chick, man she was wild."

I laugh and turn back to the mirror. "A leopard can't change his spots."

"Nor a tiger his stripes, Manning. What the hell is with you lately? You've been hanging out with flamer boy so much that all you care about are feelings and holding hands and all that junk. Eat some meat, smoke some cigars, and go get some pussy. Please. For my sake."

"Thanks for the offer, but I've heard horror stories about your pussy, Sully."

He sarcastically laughs at me. "You think you're so damn clever, don't you, Manning?"

"Well, I am clever. At least that's what the record sales say. See, me being clever is what keeps your pussy sparkling clean."

"Well, I sure am grateful. At least I'm not supporting my boyfriend."

"Dude, I get it. I'm a pussy. I'm gay. I have some mystery boyfriend. I talk about my feelings, and I don't hunt. I don't chase pussy all over the country. I'm not the quintessential guy thing. But it's seriously getting lame."

"No, this whole fucking scene is getting lame. Let's get out. Let's do something totally new. Techno-infused metal. We would rock the techno-infused metal scene."

"I really wish Spinner wasn't such an ass. Maybe then, you wouldn't have to play bass. I wouldn't have to put up with you."

"You know you love it, Manning."

I grit my teeth and bare it. "Where the hell are we?" I ask as we both walk out of my dressing room and down the hall.

"St. Louie!"

He claps me on the back as we walk onto the darkened stage. The curtain's still down, but I can hear thousands of kids chanting our name. I throw my guitar strap over my shoulder, grab the mic, and with my deepest voice call, "How are ya, St. Louis!"

"_Well, I woke up in a car,  
I traced away the fog,  
So I could see the Mississippi on her knees."_

"Cheer up Craigy." Spinner wraps his arm around me as we walk off stage. "I invited some meet and greet chicks to stick around. Not half bad."

"I'll leave that to you and Sully. Enjoy."

I roll my eyes and start down the opposite end of the hall. Spinner grabs my shoulder and whips me around before I can fully retreat. "What the hell is the matter with you?" he demands.

"Me? You're the one who just..." I sigh. It's no use arguing with Spinner. Why even try.

"I'm talking like, for two weeks you've been doing nothing but moping around. You're turning into some clone of the fruit of the looney Yorke. I mean, except, he's way cooler."

I shake my head. "Thanks, Spin. But I've written five songs in the past two weeks. Five. If I carry on like this for like two or three more weeks, we have an album. You get paid. Ever heard of the expression 'don't bite the hand that feeds?'"

"And have you ever heard that having sex is good for your heart?"

"So are Cheerios and wine, Spin."

"Wine," he says pointing both his fingers at me. "Wine we do have. And I'm sure someone will get you Cheerios if you really want them."

"I was just saying..." I let my voice trail off again. I find that it doesn't matter if I do finish sentences around Spinner. He doesn't listen anyways. "Fine, I'll come and hang out for a bit. It's better than being alone."

He clamps me on the shoulder. "'Atta boy, Craig." Suddenly, he reminds me of my dad after I agreed to do some bull shit thing after hours and hours of begging on his part. "Your little boyfriend will be there, so you two won't be alone after Sully and I get our groove on."

I push down the gag that tried to come up with his last comment. "Right. I should've found another drummer a long time ago."

He gives me a disbelieving look. "You didn't much have a chance."

"What?" Am I missing like a huge part of history, or didn't he have to try out to be my drummer?

"Well, after Jimmy and Marco found out that you even talked to me, they pretty much exiled you."

Well, yea. I guess that's right. I haven't talked to them in awhile, but I never cared about the specific why. And where did Spinner learn what the word 'exile' means? "I'm tired. I'm going back to my room."

Spinner rolls his eyes at me and grabs my arm, leading me in the opposite direction. "The past is the past. Let's just have some fun tonight."

"_I've never been so lost,  
I've never felt so much at home.  
Please write my folks and throw away my keys.  
I woke up in a car.  
I woke up in a car."_

Spinner and I stop dead in the door frame leading to the party. "Manny?" we both say at the same time.

She looks up from her seat on the couch next to Sully. Her eyes widen in surprise, but she manages to jump up and wrap her arms around both of us before we even fully take in her presence. Spinner opens his mouth but his jaw goes slack before he can think of anything to say.

What do you say? _Manny's changed_. Her shirt still bares her mid-drift which, but it's a black band t-shirt of some unknown band not even I've heard of. Her jeans are ripped up strategically so that just enough skin is showing. When she turns around, I see a tattoo across her entire back. Manuella Santos: some kind of punk rock queen.

"Manny," I say tilting my head to the hallway, "can we talk?"

She flashes Sully a small grin before bouncing to me. "Manning, find your own chick," he warns.

"Only one second, don't worry, I'm not stealing her."

She's still laughing as I close the door behind us. "Hi Craig! How are you? How's touring?"

I put my hand on her arm. "Shut up, let me talk. What in God's good name are you doing here?"

"Hanging out?" She seems truly puzzled as to why I'm so mad. "I'm in town for a week. Sully mailed me a list of tour dates awhile ago, and I could come to this one. So, here I am."

"Yea, here you are. Do you remember anything about your breakup with JT?"

She gives me a blank look. "That it happened a few years ago." I grab her and lead her down the hall to my room. I quickly unlock it and push her inside. "Craig, I know that we have some kind of history but don't you think..."

"Shut up," I interrupt, fishing through my guitar case. I come up with sheets of crumpled paper in my right hand. "This is what JT remembers about your breakup."

Her eyes scan over the sheets and gradually become overrun with guilt. "I did this?" she asks, taking it all in.

I nod my head fervently. "So, what is he going to do when he sees you and our bass player in a compromising position?"

She nods slowly. "Yea, but.. Craig, JT didn't really mean anything to me. He was always just a friend, always loyal, but..."

"But he doesn't deserve to have his heart trampled on like this."

Her face suddenly contorts into anger. "Nobody ever deserves that, Craig. Especially not a fourteen year old girl who had to kill something you created."

"You killed our baby, Manny. I didn't want to, remember?"

"You'll never change." She turns on her heel and throws JT's heart onto the floor before storming out. I pick them up and gently put them back in my guitar case. Poor kid.

_"I met a girl who kept tattoos,  
For homes that she had loved.  
If I were her I'd paint my body,  
Til all my skin was gone."_

I pick up the envelope that my manager set apart from the others, by strict orders from me. All letters from her must be separate from all of my other mail. I close the door behind me and locking, falling into a comfortable position on the couch so I could read in peace.

"Dear Craig,

I'm sorry I missed you in New York. My boss moved a deadline up to the night of your show since this huge story started breaking all over the country. Some senator from Illinois died, and the newsroom was crazy. Maybe it's better that I didn't show. We don't need to bring up past feelings. Especially for you, your success is crazy here in the Big Apple!

Anyways, how is the tour going? Are you getting along better with any of the guys? I hope so. It's crazy some of the little squabbles that have broken up great bands in the past. I know you guys have just brushed the surface of your success, so I really would hate to see anything happen to jeopardize your future.

I caught the end of your special on Fuse. The crazy Americans had to go and switch up Much Music. Anyways, you guys sounded fantastic. Spinner's hair is looking a lot better. Tell him to stick with this current look. I'd hate to see him try the Slim Shady or Al Sharpton next. JT's also looking good. Maybe when you guys go home, I'll try to fix him up with someone. Anyone's got to be better than Manny, right?

Everything here is just crazy. My workload has been a lot more than I ever expected, but I'm doing it all, at the expense of my social life. I'm thinking about transferring to a less stressful job. My mom has been pleading desperately for me to move closer to home. Maybe she's right. It would be great to have my family close for support.

Have you thought about where you're going to settle down after the tour? You should think about Toronto, too. I miss all the great times we had there. I'll never forget them. I'll never forget anyone from school.

I'm sorry this letter is so short. I wrote it during a break from work, if you can believe it. But breaks don't last long around here. I'll be looking forward to your reply.

Sincerely,

Me"

"_She wrote me a letter,  
As we passed through Rockford.  
She said she wont forget.  
Maybe I do maybe I don't,  
But I know I haven't yet.  
So here I am,  
Here I am."_

Sully bouncing on my bed on the bus. "Fucking New Orleans, kid!"

I turn over and press a pillow hard against my ear. "Aren't you pissed off at me or something?" I mumble desperately.

"For Manny leaving? I was, but dude. We're in New Orleans. Chicks twice as hot, twice as easy, and twice as desperate as Manuella Santos. Three times maybe even. I cannot wait! Two days. Two days here, Manning." He makes the same noise my dog used to when he was about to eat a huge meal. It's disgusting.

Somehow, Sully had managed to talk the tour scheduler into having us play New Orleans the day before Mardi Gras, and letting us stay for the celebrations. It wasn't much out of our way, we were scheduled to do New Orleans the day after, but Sully boasted so much you'd think he invented Mardi Gras.

I grab a clock radio plugged in to the wall next to me. After seeing how early it is, I throw it violently back into the same wall. It topples to the floor, but not broken. I grab a navy hoodie off the floor and toss it over my head as I make my way into the front room. Spinner and JT are lounging lazily on the same couch, still blinking the sleep out of their eyes.

Sully is standing by the microwave pouring his breakfast into a bowl. "Last one up on Christmas morning," Sully says. The other two roll their eyes.

"You look like Mrs. Cleaver or some shit, Sully," I remark as I lay on the open couch.

He smiles so I can clearly see the cereal coating his teeth. "You guys, we're about to enter a real life Girls Gone Wild video. How can you be sitting around doing nothing?"

"Because we're tired," JT complains turning on some random Adam Sandler movie. "And it's early."

"No one asked you, fag boy. You haven't gotten it up for tits since you eleven and had a secret thing with tubby tits. I mean, Toby." JT shakes his head and turns his attention back to the TV. "What about you, Mason?"

"What about me?" Spinner asks.

"Are you in for tonight?"

"Sure, whatever."

"Woo!" Sully grabs Spinner's hands and flails them around wildly. "It's going to be sick. So freaking sick!"

"_Well, I woke up in a car,  
I traced away the fog.  
So I could see the Mississippi on her knees."_

I don't know how he did it. He landed two hotel rooms on Bourbon Street. Granted, Mardi Gras isn't until tomorrow, but you couldn't tell it by the parties. I sit in the corner strumming my guitar and writing down lyrics every few minutes while JT read some magazine we got because they had reviewed our cd.

The stereo was on as loud as it got, but the noise from all around us was still clearly audible. JT throws the magazine down in exasperation. "I need to get over her."

I look up from my guitar. "Who? Manny?"

"Yes, Manny. It's been years. I'm going out."

I give him a puzzled look. "Out there?"

"I know. Suicide, right?"

I shake my head. "Condoms, condoms, condoms. More than one." I go through my suitcase and pass him a three pack. "I'm sure Sully doesn't invest in these. But, please, use them."

He laughs. "Sure, Mr. Armstrong."

"Good luck." I go back to my guitar as soon as I see the door close behind him. A few minutes later, a loud, loud knock is heard on my door. Figuring it to be JT, I get up and answer it. A young blonde girl turns around at the sound of the door opening.

"Oh my gosh, you're not my friends!" She says in utter embarrassment, spilling a bit of her beer on the hall carpet. "I am so sorry." Her face goes back in surprise. "Are you Craig Manning?"

"Yea," I say.

"I love you. I saw you guys tonight! That song, Blanket, fuck I love it so much. I love you. Oh, I've already said that. God, you probably think I'm so dumb."

"No," I say letting out a laugh. "I'm glad we have some truly loyal fans."

She rolls her eyes. "Everyone down here! I go to Tulane, and listening to you is like a requirement for acception. That's not a word. Oh, God, I'm rambling again."

"No, no, it's fine."

"Okay, I hate to be a total hag, but I can use your bathroom? I'm dying, that's why I came up. My friends are in one of these rooms, but I guess I got the wrong one. I'm probably on the wrong floor."

"Sure," I say holding the door open for her. She stumbles into the bathroom, and emerges without a cup.

She sees my guitar first. "Are you writing?"

"I was, yea, but they're dumb."

"As if they could be!"

I laugh. "Trust me, they can be. About two percent of the stuff I write actually becomes songs."

She nods, but her eyes betray some sort of shock. "Well, and I know you're going to say no but it would mean so much. Would you play me something that hasn't been put on a cd?"

"Why would I say no? Sure, but trust me, you're not going to like it."

"Try me." She sits cross legged on one of the beds as I sit in the chair strumming my guitar. I play another song about life on the road and how I long for home, and "the girl I left behind," a fairly regular character in my songs.

Halfway through the song, she leans over and kisses me. I can't lie, it's a great feeling to be kissed with such passion. Especially by a beautiful young girl. "I can't," I say standing up to break the kiss. "I'm sorry, it's just not me. I don't want to do this, not on the road. I can't do this to people I'll never see again."

She stands up next to me. "I don't mind." Suddenly, I see Manny, circa grade 9, standing in her place. "I can keep a secret."

I step back and knock the chair over in the process. "I'm sorry. Please, can you just leave? I'm so sorry."

She shrugs. "You don't need to apologize like a pussy."

"_I've never been so lost,  
I've never felt so much at home.  
Please write my folks and throw away my keys.  
I woke up in a car.  
I woke up in a car."_

"Tonight is it," I say collapsing onto JT's bed. "Was it worth it to you?"

"Are you kidding? It was so crazy! I got to see so much, do so much, shit, it was amazing. Did I ever thank you for inviting me to join the band?"

I shake my head. "No."

"Well, whatever, I know I kind of sucked when we first met. So, thanks. Most guys wouldn't have done that for me. Given me a chance."

I roll my eyes. "You were just so cute when I saw you in the window, I said to my mommy 'I want that one! I don't care if he's not house trained yet!'"

He laughs. "I get it. But still. Thanks."

"You're welcome. So, what are you going to do when you get home?"

"Take a shower. Oh, and maybe even a bath. Could you imagine that? Having the time and space to take a bath?"

"No, not at all."

"Well, what about you? What are you going to do?"

"Catch a red-eye to New York. I need to see her."

He nods. "And thanks for the Manny thing."

"The Manny thing?" I ask.

"I knew she was there, Craig. I'm not dumb. I heard what you said. You took a lot of shit from her for sticking up for me. No one else would've done that."

My mouth opens and closes, but I'm caught. "You underestimate your friends."

"Not all of them." A silence settles over the room, but I'm content that it's not awkward.

It's broken minutes later by Sully bounding into the room. "We're on, dudes," he says in a sing song fashion. "Tonight's the niiiight!"

We find Spinner in the hallway and all four of us put our arms around the shoulders of the guy next to us. We run onto the stage, and for the last time this tour, I grab the mic. "Looking good, LA!" I bellow out to screams from thousands of fans.

"_And maybe I could live forever,  
If not ever I had known,  
That you'd be waiting there whenever.  
I am all alone,  
but here I am."_

I lay my guitar on the floor of the stage, certain someone would grab it and put it with my stuff. I wrap my arm around JT as we exit stage left. "You ready to be done with it all?"

He sighs. "I've been done with it all for a week." I laugh, but when I look up, I stop dead in my tracks. My arm falls slowly off of JT's shoulders. "I need to go pack up my stuff," he says looking at my face. He disappears, and she's the only thing standing in front of me.

"When I said rain check, I didn't mean this tour," I say disbelievingly.

She shrugs. "It's over. I put in my two week's notice the same day I sent your last letter. I couldn't live like that anymore. But, I had to see a show before I went home."

I grab her face in my hands softly. "Ashley," I mumble, "I love you."

Tears form in my eyes. I can't help it. She's amazingly beautiful, and the emotion that I've been dealing with all tour needs to come out somehow. I lean down and rest my lips against hers softly. She chuckles softly against me, and I finally catch my breath. "I've always loved you," she whispers against my cheek.

I gather her in my arms. "You've gotten me through. Your letters were like these beacons of hope that I would have given up without them."

"Are you going to use those as song lyrics now?"

"You're damn well right I am."

She laughs. I wrap my arm around her and lead her down the hallway. "So, who's this mystery girl in all of your songs?"

"Well, JT wrote most of them. So Manny." She playfully hits me. "You, definitely," I finally answer. "Are you mad?"

She shakes her head. "I don't think I'd have it any other way."

"So did you like the show?"

"It was so weird, seeing all of you up there. They all knew, you know."

"That you were coming?" She nods her head. "Those bastards! And they didn't tell me? Bastards."

"They were sworn to upmost secrecy. They talked to me, too, all tour. Told me the truth about how you were holding up. They said you missed me."

"I did." I kiss the top of her head as we walk into the room where the rest of my band mates are. They clap as we enter, and I can't stop smiling. JT comes up and shakes my hand, but I grab him into a hug. "I think it's about time I thank you."

He smiles and nods. "It's all good."

"_Well, I woke up in a car.  
I traced away the fog,  
So I could see the Mississippi on her knees.  
I've never been so lost.  
I've never felt so much at home.  
Please write my folks and throw away my keys."_


End file.
